


Bit

by QueenCurphy



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Blood Loss, Character Death, Fear of Death, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Loss, M/M, Major Character Injury, Tragedy, True Love, darlenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-25
Updated: 2014-01-25
Packaged: 2018-01-09 22:19:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1151458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenCurphy/pseuds/QueenCurphy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’d been getting too comfortable with his successful runs into the city that he’d become slack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bit

Glenn sometimes wondered what went through someone’s mind in those moments when they were bit. He imagined they’d go into shock or denial, then fear and terror; it pained him to think of a person being so scared and distraught in the final moments of their life. 

Glenn could only hope that if the unimaginable happened to him, he’d be able to close his eyes and be at peace with the world.

Glenn had not anticipated feeling angry as fuck when he was bit.

He’d been so careless, so stupid and naïve; he’d been getting too comfortable with his successful runs into the city that he’d become slack. He’d practically run head first into that geek, that geek that sunk its rotten teeth into his shoulder. The pain was overshadowed by the shock at first, but as Glenn propped himself against Daryl’s truck back at the farm, forehead soaked with sweat, he was beginning to realise just how sore the wound was.

The pulsing, throbbing pain, however, was nothing compared to the ache of preparing to break the news to Daryl.

The sun was high in the powder blue sky, signalling the start of the afternoon; Glenn knew Daryl’s routine, and was pretty sure right about now the hunter would be heading out for his second hunt of the day. Glenn waited nervously on the hood of the truck, his legs weakening and his back slipping on the hot metal. He was getting weaker by the second now; he had to strike whilst the iron was hot; whilst he was still himself. 

His eyes flickered to and from the farm house, hoping to God that no-one from the group would come across him first and notice the blood staining his baseball shirt. He had to tell Daryl his way, not by someone running around and panicking. 

Then the thought flashed through his mind, followed by a hit of nausea to his stomach; just who was going to end it?

He couldn’t and wouldn’t be a burden; he wasn’t going to ask a member of the group to do it. His blood did not need to be on their hands.

There was also no way in hell that he would ask Daryl; he didn’t want the shadow of killing his lover hanging over the man’s head. 

He’d have to end it himself; that or Shane would happily volunteer, the arsehole. 

The rustling of plastic and the low whine of a zipper caught Glenn’s attention; his eyes dragged back to the tent with hesitation and sure enough Daryl was emerging from between the flaps. 

“Been wonderin’ where ya got to.” Daryl groaned, stretching his arms into the air and flexing his back; his eyes closed slowly like a cat as he let the sun warm his face.

“Just got back from my run.” He replied feebly, swinging his arm up and holding his injured shoulder casually, in an attempt to hide the pooling blood on his shirt. 

Daryl sauntered over, his heavy boots thudding against the cracked, dirt. He let half a smile slip, something that was very rare with Daryl, and he gingerly placed a large, calloused hand on Glenn’s small frame; his fingers running down his hip bone.

“You find anything worth keepin’?” he asked lazily, dipping his head to lick a strip of Glenn’s exposed neck, “Damn your skin is on fire Chinaman.” 

Glenn hummed softly in response to Daryl’s tongue on him, but the noise soon dried up in his throat as Daryl’s head moved to kiss the other side of his neck.

He stopped suddenly, and the air between the two men grew thick.

“Is that… blood?” He kept his voice low and steady, even though Glenn could feel his chest rising and falling more rapidly.

“Daryl, I need to tell you some-“

Two rough hands grabbed Glenn’s, pulling him closer to Daryl; his sharp, blue eyes piercing right into Glenn’s. “Don’t you dare say it…”

“Daryl, I’ve been-“

“I said DON’T!” He snapped, pulling Glenn flush against his chest and wrapping an arm protectively around his back.

“Please Daryl, let go a second.” Glenn muffled against Daryl’s musky scent, his mouth somewhere in his shirt.

Daryl released Glenn from his death grip and took a step back; his eyes were red and already blinking furiously to prevent the tears. Glenn stumbled on his feet, trying to keep upright.

“Let me see.”

“I’d rather you didn’t…” Glenn mumbled.

“I have to see it.” Daryl replied firmly, and Glenn decided not to argue.

He let his hand slip from his shoulder, hissing when his thumb brushed against the torn flesh. Daryl waited quietly, as Glenn awkwardly pulled the shirt over his head.

Glenn heard the sharp intake of air that Daryl took in. 

After a long moment of silence, Glenn shifted on his feet and sighed.

“I’m so sorry Daryl.”

Daryl’s eyes snapped from the wound to Glenn’s face, “Don’t you ever be fuckin’ sorry.” 

Glenn felt the air flush from his lungs as Daryl pulled him tight against his chest again, all the while being cautious of hurting the younger man’s shoulder. Glenn felt Daryl bury his face into his dark hair, and he heard the smallest, most desperate sob leave Daryl’s lips. A sound nothing like Daryl had ever made in the time that Glenn had known him.  
And that was the breaking point for Glenn.

All the fear, anger, panic and upset that Glenn had held in since being bit, came flooding out like a tsunami. His knees buckled and Daryl followed him to the floor, both men crashing down into the dirt. Glenn yelled out, eyes scrunched shut and fingers digging into Daryl’s arms.

Everything was over, game over, the end; and Glenn wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

“I’ve got you, I’m here.” Daryl whispered, voice breaking as he fought back the tears. 

Daryl needed to be brave for Glenn, no matter how much his heart ached.

Glenn was afraid of the end, he was scared of the fever setting in; he was petrified of becoming one of those things. But most of all, Glenn was angry; angry that he was leaving Daryl behind, that he couldn’t spend many more years with the first person he’d ever truly loved. 

Glenn shook in Daryl’s arms, chest heaving as his cries became soft, exhausted sobs. The arms around him tightened a little, pulling him onto the hunter’s lap.

“How long ago?”

“About two hours ago, I can’t stop the bleeding.” Glenn whispered; his throat sore from his melt down.

Daryl shifted, bringing himself and an unstable Glenn to their feet, “I’m cleaning you up, and stitching that wound.” He informed him.

“Daryl, it’s too late, aint nothing we can do.” 

“I… I know. But that doesn’t mean I can’t take care of you.”

Glenn nodded, and the pair walked over to Daryl’s tent; the hunter helped Glenn through the flaps and sat him down on the sleeping bags. Glenn smiled weakly at the various items scattered around him; his socks, his comics and several of his other belongings lay around the tent. This was their home, well it was the best they could do in the middle of an apocalypse. 

“Could have given your tent to T, you’re never in it anyways.” Daryl murmured, trying to change the subject. 

Glenn snickered weakly, hissing afterwards when Daryl began to drip water onto his wound. “Yeah well, I needed it in case we ever argued.”

Daryl snorted, and began rummaging through his back pack, pulling out a small bottle of whiskey, some rags and a first aid kit he’d insisted they kept. “And have we ever had a fight?”

“Never.” Glenn replied, a small smile on his lips.

Daryl began to clean the wound with the alcohol, gaining an angry hiss from his lover. “If you don’t stop prodding it, we might have to have our first fall out.” He snapped.

“I aint gonna apologise, this needs doing.” He drawled as he kept his concentration on cleaning the bite. 

Glenn shook his head lightly; it didn’t need doing at all, he was going to die and that was that. But he knew how determined Daryl was when it came to taking care of Glenn; Daryl always behaved like Glenn was made of paper. 

And now he was crumpled and torn, ready for the shredder.

Glenn just wanted to enjoy his last moments with Daryl, even if those last moments were sitting and being stitched up. 

“We need to tell the others.” 

“Do we?” Daryl replied swiftly.

“Of course we do! What do you mean?”

Daryl began to stitch the wound, handling Glenn as gently as he could. “They’ll panic and cause a scene. Can’t we just… stay here, the two of us?”

“Daryl, I don’t want you to be the one to… to end it.”

Glenn felt Daryl’s hands flinch, knowing the stark realisation that Glenn was going to die hit him hard this time.

“I can’t let you do that.” He added softly.

Daryl remained silent for a moment as he finished his handiwork, before moving around Glenn to sit beside him on the sleeping bags.

“I’m doing it, and that’s final. I told you I’d always take care of you, and that remains the same even after you take your last breath.” Daryl’s voice shook as he spoke.

“It’s just not fair.” Glenn sighed, resting his head against Daryl’s broad shoulder, “I know I can’t wish for more time now, I just wish we’d have met sooner; before all this shit happened.”

Daryl hummed in agreement, stroking his fingers through Glenn’s hair, “I was a real piece of work before the world went to shit, you wouldn’t have liked me.” 

“You still are.” Glenn smiled when he sensed the grin on Daryl’s face.

“Watch it, short round.” 

The nickname had stuck, and Glenn rolled his eyes as he realised he was going to go down with that stupid name attached to him.

But anything that was connected to Daryl was special.

The couple enjoyed the silence for a while; Glenn nestled into Daryl’s body. Minutes felt like hours as they passed, until the fever and pain in Glenn’s system became unbearable.

“I don’t feel so good.” Glenn gasped suddenly.

A raging headache had set in, making his vision blurred and his stomach knotted with nausea. His skin was covered in a layer of sweat, his hair getting more soaked by the minute. 

“Here, come lay down.” Daryl soothed, pulling Glenn back to rest him on top of the sleeping bags. The hunter jumped back up to retrieve a water bottle from his bag, and he placed the top against Glenn’s dry lips, “Drink up Rhee.” 

Glenn sipped at the water, droplets running down the pale skin on his chin; Daryl moved the bottle and wiped away the excess liquid with his thumb, letting it linger on Glenn’s jaw. “This is really happening, isn’t it?”

Glenn nodded weakly, surprised at how fast he had deteriorated. “Yup.”

Glenn could see how close Daryl was to crying, but he knew him too well and knew he would hold it in as long as was possible. Daryl didn’t cry, he was a tough son of a bitch.

“You’re right you know, this isn’t fair.” Daryl whispered hoarsely, stroking his thumb over Glenn’s sweat stained cheek, “All my life I told myself I’d never find someone… someone special; and now I’ve got him, he’s being taken away from me.”

Glenn opened his mouth to speak, but a long gasp of air took the place of his words.

“I don’t want to lose you Glenn.” Daryl’s voice thickened with emotion.

“Daryl?” 

“Yes Glenn?”

“Stay with me until the end, please?”

“You don’t even need to ask me that baby.”

Glenn felt his heart flutter; he was Daryl’s baby, the one person who had managed to dig beneath the protective layers of the younger Dixon brother and find the beautiful sole within.

“I love you Glenn.” He whispered, watching Glenn’s eyes close.

“I love you too, so much…” Glenn croaked as he fell into a deep unconsciousness. 

The red flashes of splattered blood crashed against the insides of his eyelids; the screams of people who had died before him at the hands of those monsters echoed through his head. Images of black, jagged teeth and putrid, rotten flesh dotted around his mind, the loud growls and shrieks accompanying them made his head feel like it was splitting open in agony.

“Glenn, baby can you hear me?” Daryl yelled and Glenn could feel his shoulders being shook, but he couldn’t respond.

He felt paralysed; trapped inside his body.

A deep moan of pleasure played in his mind, along with memories of his first night with Daryl; the perfect images were disrupted with streaks of blood and groans of the dead crashing through Glenn’s soul.

“Daryl, you should have told me! How long has he been like this?” Rick’s voice was thick and muffled, like Glenn was listening from underwater.

“Don’t touch him, leave him alone!” Daryl was sobbing; Glenn could feel his tears splashing down onto his bare chest.

Glenn’s family stood together, waiting for the photographer to take their picture; Daryl was there, and he held onto Glenn like he had never been prouder of anything in his life.   
Glenn has a future in this warped dream, a future with his love. The photographer pushed the button and the shutter sprang into action; the flash faded and Glenn screamed as he looked at the torn, bloody remains of his family, and his lover, strewn around him on the lawn. He looked down at his hands, crying out in fright as he found flesh and veins grasped between his fingers.

He’d killed them all.

“Glenn, PLEASE wake up, oh God Rick get Hershel! Someone do something, anything!” Daryl was crying out like a wounded animal now, both hands resting in Glenn’s soaked hair.

“You know Hershel can’t help him Daryl. I’m so sorry.” Rick sounded defeated, angry to be losing another member of his group. 

Glenn felt dizzy, almost like he was floating above ground and then he was sat beside his body, watching himself dying in Daryl’s arms. Daryl rocked him back and forth, planting long sob-filled kisses on his burning forehead. He could feel himself fading, he knew it was time. The hallucinations and dreams were terrifying, but this was nice. He felt at peace. The pain was slowly ebbing away, the light in his mind dimming gradually. He watched Daryl hold him, and with half lidded eyes, a small smile graced the dying man’s lips. He knew he was imagining this, sensing what was going on through his hearing and sense of feel, but it felt so real. He wanted to reach out and kiss those rough lips one more time, he wanted to tell Daryl he would always love him; but he guessed Daryl already knew. 

Glenn felt the last shaky breath enter his lungs; and as much as he wanted to fight it and hold onto that fresh Georgia air, he also wanted to be at peace. He let the air escape his lungs, with a long, low rattle. 

He died in the arms of his true love, and to Glenn, there was no better way to go.

Daryl sat with his back to Rick and Shane; he could hear Lori and Andrea crying outside the tent, and the low whispers of the two police officers. He held onto Glenn, looking over his rapidly paling face; he looked so peaceful.

“Daryl, you know what needs to be done-“

“Shane please; have a little respect.” Rick snapped quietly.

Daryl ignored them, they weren’t important right now; only his Glenn mattered. He gripped onto him tighter, keeping his limp body close to his.

“Daryl, I know this is hard for you, and I’m so sorry this has happened to Glenn. We all cared about him very much,”

Daryl knew what was coming, but he continued to cradle his lover.

“But you know what happens next, and we need to act upon that.”

Daryl looked over his shoulder, not even bothering to hide his tears, “I told him I’d do it. I need to take care of him.”

Rick hung his head, pulling out his python and carefully placing the gun next to Daryl. He hesitated for a moment, and then placed his hand on Daryl’s shoulder.

“I’d like to help; I’ll arrange his burial, if you’ll let me.” 

Daryl glanced back at Glenn, then to Rick again, “Near the lake; that was where I’d always find him sat with his feet in the water, watching the sunrise” 

Rick nodded, and turned to leave the tent.

“Rick, thank you.”

The two men left Daryl alone with Glenn, and the gun. 

He needed to tell Glenn something first, then he’d end it.

“I should have told you I loved you more. Should have opened up more, and told you about the dark times in my life; you kept on pushing, ‘cos you wanted to make it all better. Well you did that without even having to know the truth. You completed me, and made me a better person Rhee. Good Lord, I’m making myself cringe with all this soppy shit, but that’s what you’ve done to me. You opened my eyes and showed me it was okay to fall in love with someone.”

Daryl picked up the gun and toyed with it in his hand; he knew it would be time soon.

“Fuck, I just wanna hold you forever; I don’t want to watch them put you in the ground, you’re supposed to be sat over there reading your dumb comics and complaining about the smell of the squirrels I’m gutting.” 

He placed the cold muzzle of the python against Glenn’s temple, and he tried to pull the trigger, but he couldn’t.

“I need to do this; I’m not letting you turn! But I can’t, I just can’t!” He broke down, burying his face into Glenn’s perfectly soft curls, “I’m so sorry Glenn.”

Daryl gave himself a mental shake and sat up, keeping Glenn’s head cradled in his left hand as he put the gun in place in his right.

“I love you baby.”

The gunshot rang out across the farm, and everyone stopped to take a moment of silence for Glenn Rhee.

 

***

 

Rick had chosen a beautiful spot by the lake, right beside the overgrown mound of Cherokee Roses and reeds. The sunrise hit the water with an orange glow, and every morning Daryl came down to the lake to watch the sun rise with Glenn.

“We found Sophia today. She was… She’d turned.”

Daryl tidied around the cross made of bark and wicker, pulling away the weeds that tried to grow around it.

“I know you’ll take good care of her, wherever you both are.” 

The sun rose to its highest point, and Daryl started another day without him.

**Author's Note:**

> I get so emotional writing Major Character Deaths! Something a little different to my usual style of writing. 
> 
> Comments make me happy :)


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